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Chapter Text

The snow had been falling all morning in light bursts. It was the kind of snow that children dream of and poets write about. It was, in a word, gentle, and absolutely nothing like the endless blizzards of Caradhras, which Frodo Baggins couldn’t help but recall all the same the instant he stepped outside. He shivered to think of it, both how he’d suffered then and how unaware he’d been of all the suffering that was to come after. 

However, he was venturing outside on this particular day not to complete a dangerous quest, but to fetch some seasonal produce from the market to prepare for a grand Yuletide dinner that he and Sam were planning. How quickly things could change, Frodo thought to himself. He felt, in a word, odd. 

‘Glad you’ve decided to join this time, my dear,’ Sam remarked cheerily. He and Frodo walked arm-in-arm down the lane, both to ease Frodo’s discomfort at leaving home and to express their adoration towards each other. 

‘Of course,’ Frodo said. ‘Despite how it may seem, I do enjoy being helpful on occasion.’ 

‘I never believed otherwise,’ Sam assured. ‘Though you’re sure the cold’s treatin’ you all right?’ 

‘As it happens, I’m finding it almost nice.’ This was the truth, though Frodo nearly didn’t admit it. There was some part of him that still didn’t believe anything good could happen, or that all good things existed solely to lure one further into a bottomless chasm of bad circumstances. Every day he tried to make peace with that part of himself.

 At the beginning, he’d failed often, but now there were days where he could live and nights where he could sleep. And mornings, oh wonderful mornings, in which he found that he’d woken without an ounce of dread in his body, without a longing for something that was either long gone or had never existed at all. Mornings where he felt at home. Though at present these joys remained rare, he had them all the same. He’d have liked to be further along, more healed and more comfortable and more attentive to those who loved him, but there was something to be said for the small recoveries. When scars don’t heal, scratches and bruises still do. 

‘Wonderful to hear it,’ Sam said. ‘And may I say, y’look awful lovely too.’

‘Hm,’ Frodo said, pretending to be in serious consideration, though it was nearly impossible to suppress a smile. ‘I’ve decided you may.’

‘That’s a relief, that,’ Sam laughed. He leaned in and kissed Frodo’s cheek, somehow managing to be polite about it despite everything the two of them had been through that obviated all formality. 

Frodo pressed the side of his head to Sam’s in order to indicate that he appreciated the affection. 

They’d been living together for some time now, and after a bit of discussion, they’d recently made very loose plans to be married. It seemed neither of them truly placed much significance in the symbolic act of marriage, not after having undergone so much together and having come to love each other quite deeply without going through any of the usual steps, but when Sam had (very nervously) mentioned the idea to Frodo one afternoon, Frodo had taken a liking to it. 

Frodo imagined that his cousins Merry and Pippin would find it humorously apt that the one time he had decided to do something the traditional way, he’d ended up doing it because he happened to fall in love with his gardener while trying to complete the most perilous quest of all time. 

This is how he imagined they’d react because truthfully, he had not yet informed them of the situation. Frodo didn’t even think his cousins were aware that he and Sam shared any relationship of that nature, as the two of them had never thought to announce it. Their closeness had been forged under such personal and vulnerable circumstances that they were both hesitant to share details as to how they came to exist together the way they did. Still, Frodo did plan to tell Merry and Pippin eventually, but the right moment had yet to present itself. They’d be over for Yule soon enough, so something would have to be worked out, or else Frodo and Sam would simply have to disguise their fondness for each other, which they’d both likely be incapable of and unhappy about. 

‘What’s goin’ through that head of yours?’ Sam asked as they walked through the market entrance. ‘Don’t you deny it, you’re thinkin’ real hard about somethin’, I can tell.’ 

‘Nothing too serious, Sam. Don’t worry,’ Frodo said, beginning to take a look around the vegetable stands. ‘I’m mostly just thinking of you anyways.’ It was certainly not a lie. 

Sam visibly blushed at that and turned his attention to investigating a basket of nearby squashes with unrivalled intensity. Frodo thought it sweet that his words could still fluster so easily. 

Suddenly, Sam seemed to catch sight of something that caused him to release his hold on Frodo’s arm and pick up one of the squashes with an urgency that concerned Frodo. 

‘What do you think of this one, Mr. Frodo?’ Sam asked. Frodo couldn’t have given an honest answer to the question if his life depended on it, as he was not paying any mind to the squash itself. He was worriedly trying to puzzle through why, after almost half a year of not being addressed by a title, he was being called ‘Mister’ again. He got his answer a mere moment later when Sam’s father, Gaffer Gamgee himself, appeared beside them. 

‘Afternoon, Samwise,’ he greeted. ‘Mr. Frodo.’ He nodded respectfully at Frodo, who gave a delayed nod in return after recovering from the small shock of running into the Gaffer, who he didn’t think he’d actually had a proper conversation with since his return home, despite hearing Sam talk about him constantly. 

‘Good t’ see you, Da,’ said Sam, audibly forcing pleasantries through several layers of discomfort. ‘Me an’ Mr. Frodo were just pickin’ up some things for Yule, ain’t that right,’ Sam looked at Frodo anxiously, ‘um, sir?’ 

‘Quite right, Sam,’ he agreed. Were it not for the genuine panic Sam seemed to be experiencing, Frodo might almost have laughed at the exaggeration of emphasis he’d placed on the word sir . 

‘Well, I’ll letcha get on then,’ said the Gaffer with a sigh. ‘Though ‘tis a pity to hear you won’t be joinin’ your family this Yule, Sam.’

Sam looked away guiltily. ‘It ain’t that I don’t want to, honest —it’s only—’ he glanced at Frodo again and it was at that exact moment that Frodo began to regret never asking Sam just how much he’d told his family about why the two of them lived together. ‘I—I couldn’t,’ Sam finished meekly. 

‘I’ve an idea,’ Frodo said. ‘Why don’t you invite your family to join us for dinner on the first night of Yule, Sam? My cousins will be visiting as well,’ he explained to the Gaffer, ‘but Bag End is nothing if not accommodating. We’d be delighted to have the company of the Gamgees.’

‘Ah, that’s right kind of you, Mr. Frodo,’ said the Gaffer. ‘Now, normally I don’t go ‘round acceptin’ invitations of such a sort from folk such as you an’ your relatives, seein’ as it’s hardly proper… but given that I don’t see my son near as often as I should, I might hafta take you up on it after all.’ 

‘We’d be thrilled to have you, proper or not,’ Frodo insisted. 

‘I’ll give it a thinkin’ over. Good day to y’both then.’ The Gaffer nodded to each of them again, though the nod he gave Sam seemed slightly accusatory, and then he departed to another market stall. 

Frodo wanted to ask Sam about his nervousness with his father and whether or not he, Frodo, had done the right thing by inviting him over for Yule, but Frodo sensed that this was neither the time nor the place for that discussion. He went along with Sam’s attempt to resume their browsing of the produce as if nothing had happened, though he resolved to pursue a later conversation once they’d both recovered from the initial tension of the chance encounter. 

*** 

    That evening, Sam and Frodo were resting together in the sitting room after a post-supper tea. Sam had his head on Frodo’s shoulder and was nearly falling asleep as he listened to Frodo read aloud from an admittedly dull (even by hobbit standards) volume on the topic of parchment making. Frodo had picked it because stories of adventure and action quite exhausted him these days, so he’d been on the hunt for something a little slower and simpler, though he was starting to worry that he’d gone a bit too far in that direction.  

    After reaching the end of a particularly lengthy passage which failed to hold his attention even as he read it out loud, he stopped and closed the book. It had been a valiant effort. 

    ‘Y’ve finished?’ Sam asked in a languid tone. His eyes were closed.

    ‘I certainly have,’ Frodo decided. 

    ‘Good then. I could listen to y’talk ‘bout anythin’ of course, that’s how nice your voice is, but I do prefer it when you’re talkin’ ‘bout things that ain’t parchment.’

    Frodo laughed a bit. Sam always seemed to become more honest when he was also more tired. This, Frodo realised, was the opportunity he’d been looking for earlier that day. 

    ‘Say, Sam,’ he began. ‘Why did you speak to me so formally in front of your Gaffer?’

    Sam opened his eyes, lifted his head, and looked at him with slight shock, which made Frodo think he’d perhaps been too abrupt with his introduction of the topic.

    ‘Well, Frodo, I haven’t exactly told him everythin’ y’know.’

    ‘Oh, that I understand perfectly,’ Frodo assured, hoping he hadn’t distressed him too severely. He took Sam’s hand in an attempt to quell any anxious feelings he’d induced. ‘But is it really impossible that we should be allowed to act simply as friends?’

‘I’ve tried to sorta ease it,’ Sam said. ‘But the one time I said somethin’ to him along the lines of “Frodo’s doin’ all right these days,” he started tellin’ me I’d lost my respect for you an’ yours because my goin’ off who-knows-where to conduct that “strange business” of ours had ruined my good upbringing and proper comportment.’

‘My! All because you were casual with my name?’ 

‘Not just that I think,’ Sam explained. ‘It’s also the things I say. I can’t always pretend that I don’t care for you as, y’know… more than an employer.’ He smiled coyly and squeezed Frodo’s hand, which gave Frodo the feeling of being properly young and in love, though he was truthfully only the latter of the two.

‘What reason have you given your family for our living together?’

‘I haven’t lied to be sure. I’ve said I’m here to help you recover from all y’went through and assist you with whatever y’might need. And that’s right enough.’

Frodo supposed this was true, and that, in many ways, Sam did act as a caretaker to him. However, he was slightly less comfortable with the fact that the reciprocal nature of their relationship was the part that had to remain obscured to an outside view. 

‘I dislike that there exists, even if only in the minds of others, any sort of hierarchy between us,’ Frodo remarked. 

‘Well, I am your gardener.’

‘But not so much in an official sense anymore,’ Frodo countered. 

‘I don’t recall you ever firin’ me,’ Sam teased. 

‘Ah,’ said Frodo, pretending to be in thought as he constructed a retort. ‘If that’s what it takes to put us on equal ground, I suppose I may have to fire you, Sam, my dear.’

‘Don’t you try it!’ Sam exclaimed, trying to put on an air of offence, though Frodo could tell he really found the conversation quite funny. ‘I mean,’ he pretended to gather himself into a serious disposition, ‘you wouldn’t do that to me, Mr. Frodo , would you? You can’t fire me, sir; I do so enjoy your company.’ To prove this, he cupped Frodo’s face with his hand and kissed him for as long as was possible before they both were overcome with laughter. It was moments like these in which Frodo allowed himself to think that everything had been worth this. This was a world he was glad to have saved. 

‘How about this,’ Frodo suggested, once they’d quieted down. ‘Since both our families will be here for Yule, we’ll find a time during, or perhaps after the meal in which we can be upfront with everyone about our intentions regarding each other. It’s a merry occasion which can only beget further merriment.’

‘I couldn’t’ve thought of a better way to do it myself,’ Sam agreed. ‘Though we ought to get everythin’ exactly right with the Yule festivities if we’re to make such a bold announcement followin’ it.’

Frodo marvelled at how lucky he was to finally be faced with a surmountable challenge. ‘I daresay we’ve accomplished harder feats, my Sam.’

Chapter Text

The rest of the week leading up to Yule was spent deciding upon and cooking food, as well as decorating in expectance of company. Sam had been doing most of the preparing, as he tended to be more consistently up for the task than Frodo, who helped out whenever and however he could. The winter weather coupled with the stress of the occasion and his other longstanding ailments had led to him falling slightly ill for a few days. Though it appeared to be nothing worse than the usual seasonal sickness, Sam made sure that Frodo received more rest than he would have allotted himself. 

His condition improved in the days immediately prior to Yule itself, and he was able to contribute by hanging garlands and keeping Sam company while he cooked the last of the food. By the time the holiday arrived, they had produced a veritable feast of roasted meats, fresh breads, fruit relishes, vegetable soups, spiced chestnuts, pies both savoury and sweet, and potatoes of all persuasions, not to mention the assortment of ales, wines, and ciders for drinking. 

‘I don’t think there’s been anything at Bag End that so closely resembles a party in a long while,’ Frodo remarked on the eve of the event. 

Sam was careful not to say anything that implied that he thought things were returning to the way they’d been before, as he did not think it possible, but he happily agreed that this coming-together of his and Frodo’s families was a very nice thing indeed. In the end, Sam’s Gaffer had decided to come, along with two of Sam’s sisters, Daisy and May. The rest of his siblings, being married with children, all had their own respective families to make merry with. 

When the first day of Yule had dawned at last, Sam awoke first. Upon observing how peacefully Frodo was sleeping, he decided to award them both a little more rest, despite how much preparation for the evening they still had to complete. 

Sam held Frodo a little closer in his arms and thought, not for the first time (and perhaps not even for the hundredth), that being able to hold him was a treasure and a gift. Sam often reflected, with great humour, upon how the Sam Gamgee of the before-quest-times would blush to see how close the two of them were now. Though their journey was the force that had ultimately brought them together in such ways, Sam knew that he had loved Frodo for as long as his memory served. Possibly, he’d always been in love with him as well, though blithely unaware of it for the majority of their primary years of acquaintanceship. He remembered feeling innocently honoured whenever they happened to touch hands, though it was a feeling he’d equated with respect and admiration for Frodo in the sense of his family’s high standing (a foolish dismissal that did not seek to explain the one or two odd occasions in which Sam had wondered whether or not it might be enjoyable to kiss him). At any rate, Sam had discovered that it was enjoyable, and that there was very little he enjoyed more. 

Sam felt Frodo begin to stir. Were they lying face-to-face, Sam would have kissed him right then and there, but Frodo had his back to Sam, so Sam kissed the portion of his shoulder that his shirt failed to cover. He did this repeatedly and slowly, as there was of course no need for hurry.

‘Mm,’ said Frodo tiredly. ‘Of all the ways you’ve ever had to wake me, and for all the purposes, I prefer this to all the others.’ 

‘I’m not tryin’ to wake you, my dear,’ Sam said, smiling to himself. ‘You can rest; I merely mean to show I care for you.’ 

Frodo turned to face him, an easy look in his eyes. ‘Why would I want to be asleep for that?’ he said. ‘Would you rob me of the opportunity to return your care?’ Before Sam could answer, Frodo was kissing him softly, and he felt just as honoured as he had every time before that.

‘Are you nervous at all, Sam?’ Frodo asked afterwards. ‘About your family?’ 

‘Oh, not very,’ replied Sam, though he was more nervous than he wanted to let on. ‘I can’t think it’ll go in any horrible way tonight. My Gaffer’s sure got his opinions on everythin’, but he comes around when it matters. An’ my sisters can be a judgemental sort, but they get excited when it’s happy news they’re told.’

‘I hope you’re right,’ said Frodo. ‘The last thing I would want to do is come between you and them.’

‘Is that what you think you’d do? Oh, Frodo, ‘course not! It’s you . They know you, an’ they all like you! Worst case, it takes them a bit to get used to the adjustment. That’s all.’

‘You’re sure they won’t disapprove?’ 

‘If they do, I’ll remind ‘em to hold their tongues on the subject,’ Sam said resolutely. ‘The real question is, how d’ya suppose your cousins’ll take to it?’ Sam was not at all worried about the reactions of Merry and Pippin, but he thought talking of them was a safer bet than discussing all the possible things that could go wrong with his own relations, most of whom prided themselves on being a family grounded in tradition and simplicity, and Sam’s situation, by contrast, was neither traditional nor simple. 

‘I expect they’ll meet our announcement by poking quite a bit of fun,’ Frodo predicted with a good-natured laugh. ‘But with all we endured together, I also would like to say I think the two of them will be happy for us.’

‘I don’t doubt as much.’ 

Their conjectures about the evening having been made, Sam and Frodo rose together to eat a hearty Yule breakfast and attempt to enjoy the dwindling portion of the holiday that they were to spend alone in each other’s company.

*** 

    The first to arrive shortly after the sun had set were Merry and Pippin, bringing with them a basket of seed cakes for their hosts. 

‘This is all rather comical,’ Pippin commented after he’d embraced both Sam and Frodo. ‘Imagine! Us having a civil Yule dinner together as if we were naught but the most common of hobbits!’

‘Pip here thinks he’s owed something more on the scale of a Gondorian feast,’ Merry jokingly explained as the two of them were shown inside. 

‘Not true!’ Pippin objected. ‘How dare you suggest I have anything but the greatest of reverence for my dear cousin and his dearest companion, who are together my two dearest friends in the world?’

‘I thought I was your dearest friend!’ said Merry. 

‘Well, you’ve fallen down a few places now.’

Sam and Frodo caught each other’s eye, and it seemed neither of them were able to contain their amusement. Merry and Pippin were exactly the sort they needed around to raise their spirits. 

‘So, Sam,’ said Merry, ‘I hear your family will be joining us as well. I look forward to getting to know them better! I never was quite as well acquainted with the Gamgees as I’d like to be.’ 

‘Yes, I’m sure they’ll be glad to be in your presence as well,’ answered Sam, though he couldn’t help but think that his relatives might be less keen on the idea of dining with two hobbits of such esteem and such mystery as Merry Brandybuck and Pippin Took. The Gamgee family enjoyed an atmosphere of liveliness as much as all hobbits did, but the Brandybucks and the Tooks were not typically the sort that they chose for as friends, as there was too great a difference in class and personality between them. 

‘Because Sam is too polite to say it, I will,’ Frodo interjected. ‘You both had better be kind to his family, and perhaps don’t speak of our adventures nearly as much as you might if were it just the four of us.’

‘Oh, we’ll behave ourselves. You needn’t worry,’ Pippin promised. ‘But enough formality! Tell us how you’ve both been since last we saw you!’ 

They then struck up a friendly conversation about recent events, led mostly by Merry and Pippin, since Sam and Frodo had little to report that did not involve their engagement, and it was not yet the moment in which they desired to share that news. 

Soon thereafter, the Gamgees arrived, and Sam took it upon himself to make all the proper introductions. Though the Gaffer already knew Merry and Pippin, Sam’s sisters had not met them and only knew them from Sam’s stories and their larger reputations. 

‘It’s an honour to meet such distinguished friends of my brother’s,’ said Daisy, giving a slight bow to each of them individually. She was very evidently intimidated by them, knowing that they were both heirs to great deals of wealth and several notable titles. 

‘It’s equally wonderful to meet the sister of such a distinguished friend,’ said Merry courteously, bowing back to her and dispelling much of the tension. Pippin followed his lead. 

‘Well met,’ agreed May. ‘And ‘tis a pleasure as always, Mr. Frodo.’ She handed him a bouquet of winter flowers which she had been holding. ‘These are for you, sir. From our family.’ 

Frodo almost told her that there was no need to use such elegant address when talking to him, but he then remembered what Sam had told him about the Gaffer’s opinion on such matters and decided that it was best to accept May’s greeting and gift without causing conflict. He thanked her graciously for the flowers.

‘Your invitin’ us was very generous indeed,’ said the Gaffer to Frodo. ‘And I trust Sam has of late been a proper assistance to you ‘round the house?’ 

‘Yes, of course,’ replied Frodo, trying not to let his inflection give away the fact that he clearly thought of Sam as much more than an assistance. 

‘He’d better be!’ Daisy said, staring pointedly at Sam. ‘We rarely ever see our Samwise anymore!’

‘Daisy…’ Sam began, flustered. 

‘You must be up to somethin’ of real importance up here,’ Daisy continued, with a slight smugness about her. ‘It’s an outrage you don’t visit more!’ 

Though her teasing was not borne of any ill-will, it still earned her reprimand from her father, who told her to quiet down. 

‘You were just sayin’ as much earlier!’ she protested. 

‘It’s good to see you too, Dais,’ Sam interrupted in a successful attempt at de-escalation, which earned him a reluctant hug from his sister. 

The proper salutations having been made, the party entered the dining room to begin their dinner. Frodo sat at the head of the table, with Sam and Merry on either side of him. On Sam’s side of the table sat Daisy and the Gaffer, and on Merry’s sat Pippin and May. 

Sam and Frodo acted in equal parts as hosts, asking and retrieving everyone’s drink preferences before they brought out the food. Most of the gratitude was, however, directed towards Frodo, as he was the perceived head of the household, though he used every compliment as an opportunity to say that he could have done nothing without Sam. 

While Sam was grateful for the recognition, he found it very hard to address directly. If he continued to perpetuate that he was on professional terms with Frodo by calling him ‘sir,’ it would make their upcoming announcement even more shocking to the entire group, which was not an ideal outcome. Because of their frequent correspondence, Merry and Pippin were aware that Sam now called Frodo by his first name alone, though Sam’s family was not, so any use of Frodo’s name in any format was bound to draw a comment from someone. Sam himself would have rather used the words ‘my love’ or ‘my dear,’ but this was of course vastly out of the question. Therefore, any talk that transpired between Sam and Frodo tended to be short and curt, as they both knew that if they went on long enough, their affection for each other would reveal itself before they were ready for it to be revealed. 

This behaviour gave them the appearance of having an odd rapport in which they avoided talking with each other, but looked at each other quite a lot more than they reasonably should. 

Even if Frodo did not directly speak to Sam, he was often heard praising him in one way or another. Merry and Pippin thought nothing of it, as they knew that there existed a great friendship between their cousin and Sam, but Sam’s family, still thinking him a servant of Frodo’s, received the impression that Samwise Gamgee must truly have been the most hardworking and remarkable gardener who ever lived. 

While everyone was finishing up their primary round of drinks and chatting amicably, Frodo announced that he would go into the kitchen to retrieve the first courses.

‘Would you help me carry the food, Sam?’ he requested. ‘It’ll be quicker that way.’ 

‘Happy to help,’ answered Sam. He could tell that he was not just being asked to assist with the task, but also to conference with Frodo about something away from the rest of their company. 

When they were alone in the kitchen, Sam immediately took both of Frodo’s hands in his own and inquired as to whether he was doing all right. 

‘I think it’s going rather well,’ Frodo said. ‘Don’t you?’ 

‘I do, I do, but I didn’t ask how the dinner is goin’, I asked how you were. You’ve not done this since…well, I just hope it ain’t too hard on you, all the company an’ all the conversation, an’ you havin’ to pretend nothin’s changed…but here I go, makin’ it worse now; I shouldn’t’ve drawn attention to it.’

‘Dear Sam,’ said Frodo kindly, ‘you aren’t making anything worse. Exactly the opposite. Don’t worry about me. You’re right that it’s hard for me to do this sort of thing again after all that’s transpired, but I have you to help me through it, and that is more than enough. I only called you in here with me to say that I dislike having to pretend that we are what we are not, or more accurately, that we are not what we are, and that I look forward to the near future in which I can do this any time I like.’ Frodo bestowed a kiss upon Sam’s brow and briefly tightened his grip on his hands before letting go and insisting that they’d better get the food out soon, or else someone would come inquiring after them. 

Sam was put at ease by Frodo’s confidence, and began to look forward to the moment that he had previously started to dread. 

The food was brought out, though almost as soon as Sam sat down again, Daisy whispered to him that she needed to talk to him alone. 

‘Can’t it wait?’ he said. 

She shook her head. 

Sam sighed and made an excuse related to wanting to show her a book in the library before leaving the table once again. As soon as they were in the next room and out of earshot, Daisy began to talk. 

‘All right,’ she said, ‘I know there’s somethin’ up with you. Da and May might not see it, but I do.’ 

‘What d’ya mean?’ Sam asked, trying to sound above suspicion. 

‘You and Mr. Frodo. You’re always givin’ each other these looks like there’s somethin’ you’re keepin’ from the rest of us. An’ then you go off and have a private talk in the kitchen? I know that’s what you were doin’ in there. What in the world is it about? I’ve got to know. Has somethin’ bad happened?’ Her concern appeared serious. 

Sam was caught off guard by how much she’d noticed, but he still tried desperately not to let her think she was onto anything of importance. ‘It’s nothin’, Daisy. Nothin’ bad, at least. You’ll find out later, all right?’ 

‘Please, Sam? You did tell me everythin’ once, y’know. We used to be so much closer.’ She seemed genuinely saddened that Sam had hidden something from her. His heart softened. He did care for her an awful lot, and there was a part of him that missed their childhood closeness as well. Sam concluded that he trusted her, and that revealing his secret to her a little earlier than originally planned couldn’t hurt. 

‘I’ll tell ya, Dais, all right? But you’ve got to keep it to yourself for just a little while.’ 

‘Sure thing,’ she said sweetly. ‘Won’t tell a soul. So, what are you and Mr. Frodo really on about, then?’ 

‘We’re engaged,’ Sam answered simply.

‘Engaged in what?’ 

‘Well…’ Sam looked away nervously. He had not thought he would need to elaborate, and was thus woefully unprepared to do so. ‘Marriage, I suppose. For one thing.’ 

Daisy stared at him open-mouthed. ‘Marriage? You’re going to marry him? He’s going to marry you?’ 

‘It– it does often go both ways like that, yes.’ 

‘Sam!’ Daisy cried, fed up with his nonchalance. ‘But you– but it’s– I mean, neither of you are even wearin’ rings or anythin’ like that!’ 

‘Um, well, for personal reasons we’ve agreed not t’ do that part of it. We’re not very keen on rings.’ 

‘How could y’not have told us this earlier? Who else knows? Do his cousins? Does Da?’ She gestured back towards the dining room. 

‘No one knows, Daisy,’ he said. ‘We’re plannin’ to tell everyone after dinner, so if you could just act like y’don’t know until then…’ 

Daisy looked a little frantic. In fact, she was frantic. She was overwhelmed by the information she was receiving, and could barely put words to the numerous questions that were surfacing in her head with every passing second. 

 ‘Sam, I really don’t know what to say,’ she confessed. 

‘I was afraid of that,’ he said, sounding dejected.  

‘Oh, no!’ She exclaimed. ‘No, that isn’t what I meant! I’m at a loss for words, sure, but that don’t mean that I’ve got a bad opinion of you or of this! I– um, let’s start back at the beginnin’, shall we? Are you in love with your Mr. Frodo?’ 

‘’Course I am,’ answered Sam instantly.

‘And he’s in love with you?’ 

‘Seems to be.’ He smiled bashfully, and Daisy knew immediately that there was nothing but simple good fortune afoot.

‘Then I believe all that’s required of me is the necessary congratulations!’ She threw her arms around her brother and hugged him tightly. ‘Oh, Sam! Who would’ve thought? Oh, I’m so wonderfully happy for you! The rest can wait!’

‘Thanks– thank you, thank you,’ he stammered, taken aback by her reaction, but relieved by it as well. ‘I can only hope everyone else reacts so kindly.’ 

She drew back to look at him. ‘You’re worried about our own dear father, aren’t you?’ 

‘How could I not be? I don’t think he quite understands all that me an’ Frodo suffered together.’ 

‘That’s why you love each other? Because you both suffered?’

‘That ain’t why. I love him because he’s Frodo Baggins, and that’s all the reason I’ve ever needed. But all the sufferin’ made it a deeper thing. I mean, there were so many times I thought I was gonna lose him.’ Sam took a breath before continuing. Daisy listened with patience and a good deal of awe, having heard so little about her brother’s adventures firsthand. ‘When that happens with someone y’love, it’s hard to think of anythin’ but how much love you’ve got for ‘em. But I don’t think I can explain it to Da in a way he’ll be all right with. He’ll think it a failin’ on my part, that I couldn’t just be Frodo’s gardener forever. An’ that’s only if he doesn’t first come to the conclusion that we’ve both outright lost our minds.’ 

‘Perhaps he’ll think one of those things or somethin’ entirely different, but I’ll be on your side, an’ so will May. We’ll wear him down if you don’t.’ She patted him on the shoulder comfortingly. 

‘We ought to go eat,’ Sam told her. 

‘Ha! I nearly forgot about that! Yes, let’s return. Again, my most joyous congratulation to you and Mr. Frodo!’ 

They re-entered the dining room and took their seats, their absence hardly remarked upon, as everyone was making their own conversation. In particular, Pippin was holding the attention of most of the table by telling them about his encounters with the Ents, while May continued to question him from the side, insisting that he was making the entire thing up. 

‘Is he truly serious?’ May said to Merry. ‘Trees that talk? It sounds like nonsense!’ The Gaffer made a noise that indicated that he agreed with her. 

While Merry launched into his own story to back up Pippin’s account, Daisy leaned across Sam to get Frodo’s attention. 

‘I hope you don’t think me rude, but I wanted to give my congratulations to you as well,’ she whispered to him. ‘I think you two are really excellent together.’

‘Sorry?’ Frodo said, not immediately catching on.

‘I had to tell her,’ Sam supplied. ‘She’d half-figured it out already.’ 

‘Ah. Then thank you, Daisy,’ he said, smiling at the warmth of her compliment. ‘And no, not rude at all.’

The dinner progressed from then on as Yule dinners usually do, with cheer and enthusiasm for the holiday, constant bickering between family members (which was, for the most part, playful), and much discussion of the superb quality of the food. 

When the last of the dishes were cleared, Merry suggested that they adjourn to the sitting room for tea. 

‘If it would not impose on your good graces too severely, of course,’ he said to Frodo. 

‘Not at all,’ Frodo answered. ‘However, before I put on a kettle, there’s something that needs to be done, and I fear it cannot wait any longer.’ 

‘Go on then!’ Pippin demanded, oblivious to Frodo’s solemnity. 

Frodo stood, quieting all side conversations as everyone realised he was about to speak. 

‘Um, all right. So,’ he began. He then looked down at Sam, who was still seated and staring at him expectantly. ‘Won’t you join me, then?’ Frodo whispered to him. 

‘Ah, right! Surely, I will,’ said Sam, hurrying to stand and take his place at Frodo’s side. He instinctively grasped Frodo’s hand as he did this, before considering that he shouldn’t have, and then deciding that it wouldn’t matter much in a few moments anyway, so in the end he did not let go.

Standing in front of the entire table like this was far more daunting than Sam had expected. Daisy was smiling at him encouragingly, her support infinitely appreciated, but as he tried to read the faces of the others, he found that he was less certain than ever as to how they’d react. Merry and Pippin looked as though they were trying to look interested, doubtlessly expecting that they would soon have to sit through some sort of lengthy speech. The Gaffer’s expression was utterly indecipherable, so Sam tried to overlook his stare, but May’s look definitely conveyed that she hoped Sam was not about to horribly embarrass himself, and by extension, her. 

‘As you all know,’ Frodo was saying, ‘It has been a difficult few years. Things are not as they were, both in this world and in our individual lives. There have been many times, fairly recently, in which I considered that all hope was lost for me. That I had gone to a place, physically and figuratively, from which I could never return.’ This had been a painful thing for him to share. He had to take a breath to recover from the emotions that were welling up during this recollection. The others were respectfully silent. 

‘Should I take over?’ Sam asked in a hushed voice. 

‘No, no,’ said Frodo. ‘I appreciate it, but I must go on.’ He held to Sam’s hand firmly and continued, ‘Despite this ongoing hardship, I am supported by the kindest of friends and the most generous of family. There has been one, in particular, who has been there for me in ways I could have never imagined, and that is, of course,’ Frodo made eye contact with Sam and briefly forgot he was addressing a room of others as well, ‘the unfailingly brave and forever kindhearted Samwise Gamgee.’ 

‘Frodo…’ said Sam softly, feeling as though he might begin to cry. Frodo reached for his empty hand and Sam gladly let him take it. 

‘I would be proud to know Sam in any capacity,’ Frodo said. ‘But I am especially proud to be able to say that I know him as a friend, and perhaps more crucially, as a partner in life and love. And I – well, we – are choosing to share this now because…’ He signalled with a nod that Sam should complete the statement.

‘Because we soon hope to be married,’ Sam finished, beaming.

There was certainly more to be said, but neither Frodo nor Sam was allowed to add on to the information that had been presented, as Pippin immediately interrupted them by standing up and beginning to clap earnestly. 

‘I knew it!’ he said. ‘I always did know you’d both come around! Didn’t I tell you just that, Merry?’ 

‘He did not tell me, I’ll have you know,’ said Merry, astonished both by the news and by the implication that he’d had prior knowledge of it.

‘No, right, it was Frodo I told!’ Pippin shouted excitedly, making his way to where Frodo stood and throwing an arm around his shoulders. 

‘What d’ya mean?’ Sam wondered, looking confusedly between Frodo and Pippin. 

‘I told him you’d return his feelings,’ Pippin explained. ‘When he told me he was in love with you!’ He laughed, and then to Frodo he said, ‘I see you took my advice, dear cousin!’ 

‘I may have let that conversation slip my mind,’ Frodo admitted to Sam. He was blushing substantially. ‘But yes, now that I recall, he did know a bit.’ 

‘I knew as well!’ said Daisy, standing up to join them. ‘Only as of very recently, mind you, but now I can express my happiness in full!’ 

‘As someone who did not know,’ Merry said, ‘I’d like to offer some good wishes as well, if I’m not too late to do it.’ He held out his hand to Sam, who shook it hesitantly. ‘Oh, what am I doing?!’ Merry exclaimed. He immediately pulled Sam into a full embrace, which was returned as soon as Sam recovered from the shock of it. 

By now, May had come over to join them as well. She had not said much, but she did not appear in any way displeased. While Sam was occupied with accepting Merry’s felicitations, Frodo found himself facing her. 

‘Um, I’m not sure what to make of this,’ she said. ‘It seems…’ 

‘Odd?’ Frodo guessed. 

‘No! I’d never say such a thing, sir. It’s only that I’m findin’ I don’t know as much about my brother as I thought I did. It’s difficult to comprehend the nature of this, but that’s just to say that I’d like to spend more time with him, an’ you as well if you’d allow it, so that I might understand more and become a better friend to you both.’

‘Your patience is honourable,’ he said, both flattered by and grateful for her sincerity. ‘And you’re welcome to pay a visit any time.’

    ‘Thank you, Mr. Frodo. May I…can I… um, would it be impertinent of me if I gave you a hug?’ 

    ‘I wouldn’t mind it,’ Frodo laughed. She reminded him greatly of Sam. They both had the same humble modesty and strong compassion about them. 

    May gave Frodo a short, yet pleasant hug and then went to wait at Sam’s side in hopes of talking with him once Merry and Pippin were finished making spirited remarks about how much they admired him and how suitable a pair he and Frodo were. 

    Frodo was starting to believe that the whole ordeal had gone over extraordinarily well when he realised that there was still one guest who had not reacted to the announcement at all, and indeed was nowhere to be found at the present moment. 

Sam seemed to notice this in the same instant, and immediately turned to his nearest sister and asked, ‘Daisy, where’s Da gone?’ 

The attention of the room was drawn to Daisy, who averted the gaze of all five pairs of eyes that were now trained on her. 

    ‘I didn’t wanna say nothin’,’ she said quietly. ‘But I heard him mumble somethin’ about fresh air a minute ago, an’ then he just walked out. I’m really sorry, Sam. I thought of tryin’ to stop him, but you were all gettin’ along so nicely, I didn’t wanna draw attention to it right then.’ 

‘I’ll go talk with him, Sam,’ said May, trying to comfort her brother, who appeared utterly crestfallen. ‘He just doesn’t like surprises. I’ll straighten it out, all right?’ 

‘It’s hopeless, May,’ Sam said dismally. ‘I knew he wouldn’t like to hear it. I’d talk t’ him myself if I thought there was any chance of havin’ him come ‘round, but…’ He left the sentence there for the rest of them to complete for themselves. 

‘I’ll go,’ Frodo volunteered. ‘I’ll talk with him.’ He hated to see Sam so pained and would have done anything if it meant improving his spirits. 

‘I wouldn’t wish that on you, my dear,’ Sam insisted. ‘You needn’t do that for me.’ 

‘No, I’d really like to try,’ Frodo maintained. ‘Even if nothing comes of it, I think I owe him an attempt at honest conversation.’

Reluctantly, Sam agreed to this, though he made Frodo promise not to stay out in the cold for too long. Frodo said he would return as soon as he could, stepping out while the others tried to ease Sam’s mind with further congratulatory remarks. 

Frodo did not have to go far to find the Gaffer, who was sitting on the bench in the garden and smoking. Frodo did not know what he was hoping to achieve by talking with him, but he felt slightly guilty that his relationship with Sam’s family was not stronger, though he had been acquainted with all of them, the Gaffer especially, for many years. 

‘I’m in no mood for a lecture from you, Samwise,’ he said as Frodo approached, not looking up. 

‘It isn’t Sam, if you’ll pardon me.’

‘Ah, Mr. Frodo,’ he said gruffly. ‘Now, I won’t be so rude as to tell you off…’ 

‘But you have no desire to speak with me either,’ Frodo concluded. ‘I understand. However, I’m afraid it’s in my obstinate nature to endeavour to make an appeal to you.’ 

‘Sit then, if you must.’ 

‘Thank you,’ said Frodo, brushing snow off the bench before he took a seat. 

‘You are a good deal like him, y’know,’ the Gaffer remarked, surprising Frodo greatly. 

‘Like Sam?’ As much as he loved Sam, Frodo had never thought them incredibly similar. They were in no way different enough for serious disagreement to arise between them with any frequency, but they were hardly identical individuals. Yet, Frodo was flattered to hear from Sam’s own father that something about him was reminiscent of Sam, who he naturally held in the highest regard. 

‘The two of ya always were stubborn an’ senseless.’ 

Frodo smiled to hear this, taking the comment far more graciously than he was perhaps meant to. 

‘Sam means the world to me,’ he said resolutely. ‘I’m sure that I am far from what you imagined if you ever pictured a life partner for him, and truthfully, I’m sometimes unsure as to whether I myself deserve his affection, but I try my best to show him the kindness and care he is owed.’

‘I haven’t a thing against you, Mr. Frodo,’ the Gaffer assured him. ‘And I don’t believe your intentions ill-contrived.’ 

‘No?’ wondered Frodo. He’d certainly thought himself the problem. ‘Despite me being stubborn and senseless?’ 

‘’Tis simply tough, Mr. Frodo, for an old hobbit like me to wrap my head ‘round such a thing. I suppose, with Sam havin’ the job I once had, I can’t see how this all could happen. He was naught but your gardener for how many years?’ 

‘He was never only my gardener,’ Frodo contested. ‘For most of my life, I considered him a very good friend, if not my best friend. But to your point, we did know each other for years, decades even, before this, and I do see how it might seem an astonishing change.’ 

    ‘I expect y’might tell me it has somethin’ to do with the whole quest business?’ 

    A hundred different moments drifted through Frodo’s mind; Sam holding his hand when he woke up in Rivendell, Sam insisting on following him to Mordor, Sam trying to cheer him up as they wandered endlessly through the Dead Marshes, Sam rescuing him from Cirith Ungol when he thought he’d never live to see anyone he loved again, Sam carrying him up Mount Doom, and Sam being there at the very end as Frodo used what he thought were his dying moments to wonder why he had stayed for so long. He’d decided that it didn’t matter the reason, he was just glad it was Sam. 

‘A great deal to do with it, yes,’ answered Frodo shakily.

‘I thought as much,’ the Gaffer nodded. ‘Y’both seem altered by it. Sam speaks of it sometimes. He’s said it took a toll on you especially.’

‘He speaks truthfully on the matter. If I am to be open about it, the toll is still being taken.’ 

‘I am sorry to hear it, then.’ 

‘Thank you for your concern,’ Frodo said, meaning every word of his gratitude. ‘Though I’d say I’m doing well enough, all things considered. I have learned that in the wake of great tragedy, there is always something good, however small, to be gained. I believe that Sam and I are that thing.’

A period of silence followed this reflection, though it seemed like a courteous pause in conversation rather than an indignant one. 

‘Say, Mr. Frodo,’ the Gaffer said suddenly, and in a voice that betrayed genuine worry. ‘I don’t remember you always bein’ short a finger on your right hand.’ 

‘Oh,’ said Frodo, self-consciously moving his maimed hand to his lap and covering it with his left. ‘You’re right, I have not always been.’

‘Forgive me, I should’ve kept quiet.’ 

‘It’s quite all right. I prefer being asked to being silently stared at, which is the option most tend to take.’ 

‘Forgive me again, but does…does Sam know how it happened?’ 

Frodo shivered, either from the cold or the memory or a combination of the two. ‘He does, and in fact, he witnessed it. He will tell you more if you ask him. I don’t wish to keep it such a secret, but I cannot recount the full event without causing myself immense pain.’ 

‘He really saw that happen to you?’ said the Gaffer. He seemed to feel some sort of sympathetic horror towards what Sam and Frodo had endured, though he was far from knowing the whole of it. When Frodo confirmed what he had said with a nod, he looked at him sincerely and told him, ‘Well, I feel now I’ve made a right mess of this evenin’. What I think of you an’ Samwise shouldn’t matter; I’m clearly an old fool who knows nothin’ of either of you, nor of the world that has changed you so. You are both but strangers t’ me, and you should do as you like.’

  ‘We do not wish to be strangers,’ Frodo said. ‘If you’ll come in to join us, we may be reacquainted. And I know it would make Sam very happy if you spoke to him.’

‘I will think it over, Mr. Frodo, if you’ll allow me to finish my smoke in peace.’

‘That I can concede to,’ said Frodo, sensing that he had said and done as much as he could without being uncivil. He thanked the Gaffer once again and returned inside by himself. 

When Frodo entered the sitting room, he was greeted by the sounds of music and shouting. Merry was playing a jovial tune on a fiddle, which Frodo recalled as having belonged to Bilbo. He had never learned to play it himself, but Merry was doing a fine job. Daisy stood beside him, clapping along to the music and singing a carol, while Pippin and May danced together in the centre of the room. The dance was one that had to be performed rather quickly, and with great knowledge of the steps, which neither Pippin nor May seemed to possess, leading to constant blunders that had them both reeling from laughter. Sam sat on the sofa, watching this all while he sipped on a cup of tea. He seemed anxious, but clearly couldn’t help but be delighted by his family and friends. 

When he saw that Frodo had returned, Sam beckoned him over. Frodo took a seat next to him and Sam set down his tea to put an arm around Frodo and offer his other hand for him to hold. Frodo sank gladly into this comforting embrace, appreciative of the warmth that it offered after his having been out in the cold, but also feeling in some deeper way that he’d returned to a place where he belonged. This sense was amplified by the acknowledgement he received from his guests, who did not cease their merriment on his account, but did offer him a few nods or shouts mid-song and dance to indicate that they were happy to have him once again. 

Sam kissed Frodo lightly on the cheek and then leaned to speak close to his ear so that he could be heard over the music. He asked Frodo how the conversation with his father had gone, and Frodo candidly told him that he was not sure if it had gone well or poorly, but that hope had not been lost, and there was still a chance of the Gaffer joining them again. 

Just as Frodo said this, the Gaffer himself entered the room, causing Merry to stop his fiddling in surprise. A brief tension occupied them all before the Gaffer proclaimed, ‘You may keep on with that Master Merry, if it would please you.’ 

Merry looked around at Pippin and May, who clearly wanted to keep dancing, and then at Daisy, who shrugged at him. He eventually lifted the fiddle to his shoulder again and the atmosphere of the room returned to what it was. 

‘You should have a word with him,’ Frodo told Sam. 

Sam acquiesced, albeit hesitantly, leaving Frodo’s side to join his father. Frodo could not hear most of the long conversation that thus transpired between them, but it seemed to be one of great compassion and mutual amends. Sam was smiling throughout, and at the end of it, his father said something that made him look at Frodo, nod gratefully, and then approach him. 

Sam did not sit down again as Frodo had expected him to, but held out his hand instead. 

‘Would you like to have a dance, my love?’ he asked. 

Taken aback, but far from displeased by the offer, Frodo accepted his hand, and taking their cue, Pippin and May moved to the side to allow them the floor. Merry stuck up a tune just as upbeat as his previous one, but Frodo could tell this new choice was intentional, as it was a common and recognizable Yule love song. 

The rest of the party, the Gaffer included, began to clap in time with Merry’s playing. Pippin and Daisy shouted at Sam and Frodo to get on with it. 

Sam put an arm around Frodo’s waist, and Frodo, following his lead, wrapped an arm around Sam’s shoulder. They clasped their other hands together and gazed at each other for a loving moment before beginning to dance.